


Minho

by HisHighnessCat



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Guilt, M/M, Minho POV, Minho alone, Running, Safe Haven, Short Story, newtmas - Freeform, onesided Minnewt, sad/hopeful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-20 16:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisHighnessCat/pseuds/HisHighnessCat
Summary: One shots from Minho's POVCh.1: Minho reflects over his relationship with Newt. (Onesided Minnewt, Newtmas)Ch.2: Minho runningCh.3 Thomas dies too, and Minho is left alone





	1. Crushing/Crushed

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided to collect any short stories I write from Minho's POV here. They are all unrelated to each other. Hope you'll enjoy! -Cat

Minho’s whole body ached, his sore muscles protesting every move. This was, without a doubt, the worst part of being a Runner. It had gotten a bit easier over the years, but he supposed the human body just wasn’t meant to do any strenuous activity for twelve hours straight. 

As Minho went to grab something to eat Newt passed by him, already with his own plate in hand. He gave Minho a short nod and a smile before he walked on. Somewhere inside Minho a dull pain flared up, just briefly. So this was all these past years had become, all that time running together in the Maze, of relying on each other and trying to cheer each other up when hopelessness threatened to kill their spirits. Just a short acknowledgement. 

Of course Minho knew that they were still friends and that Newt would always have his back, but once, they’d had something that could have been so much more. Minho was sure he hadn’t just imagined that, that Newt had felt the same. All the small touches, the secret smiles. They had meant more to each other than anyone else ever had. 

That was before Thomas. Minho watched as Newt walked over to sit next to the Greenie. The two of them had become impossibly close in such a short time, existing in their own personal universe. Minho saw Thomas’ slight blush in the firelight and his goofy smile as he said something that was only for Newt to hear, and Newt laughed - a sound so free and full of joy that Minho almost choked on the air he was breathing. Newt’s eyes almost shone and his whole being looked so relaxed and just…  _ happy. _ Minho didn’t think he’d ever seen Newt like that, and he wished more than anything that he would have been enough to put that expression on his friends face.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Thomas. On the contrary he was quite fond of the Greenie. Thomas was reckless and impulsive, perhaps a bit crazy and always asked a million and one questions, but he was earnest and loyal, and he learned quickly. In the short amount of time Thomas had been there, Minho already knew that he would be a friend for life. 

So as he watched both of his closest friends now, orbiting around each other, Minho decided that he would let them be. He would step down, support them and just be their best friend. And he would get them out, so that they could be as free in the world as they were with each other. And then maybe, one day, Minho could find his own happiness.


	2. Minho running

Minho was running, pushing his body to move faster, faster, _faster_ . His chest heaved, lungs working overtime, his throat was raw and his mouth tasted of blood. His pulse pounded loud in his ears and every muscle burned with a similar intensity in which the Last City had when it went up in flames.  
_The Last City._ The thought of that place made Minho push himself just a little bit more, but that proved to be too much. His legs gave out and he crashed to the ground. He didn’t even have time to catch himself. A sharp pain shot up from his shoulder and for a few minutes all Minho could do was lie there and breathe through the pain, all while trying to recover from his mad sprint. He carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position. After making sure he wasn’t too badly injured he turned his head to the sky and screamed in rage. _Shucking hell! It wasn’t good enough!  
_    Slowly he stood up and started to make his way back to the camp. He would rest up for a few hours then try again. He’d do better next time. He would run faster, push himself further. He knew it was already too late now, Newt had already died and _it had been his fault_ , but if it ever came down to it again, Minho _would_ be fast enough. No one else would die because he wasn’t.


	3. Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate ending where Thomas dies from his wound and Minho is left alone. (And they couldn't bring the bodies to the Safe Haven)

Ashes to Ashes

 

It had to be a nightmare.  _ Please please please, let it be a nightmare! _ His two best friends - the reason he hadn’t crumbled during all those months in WCKD’s capture -  _ gone. _ They had come for him, to rescue him. He’d hoped they would, though he had started to lose hope of ever seeing them again. But they  _ had _ come, had gotten him out. And, naïvely, he'd thought that maybe, maybe, it was all over. They'd get out, they'd live. 

_ They hadn’t. _

They had barely even gotten out of WCKD’s headquarters when it became apparent that Newt wasn’t well. The coughing, the protruding veins, the black blood… Minho had prayed to anyone that would listen that it wasn’t true, but just one look at Thomas’ grim expression had told him that it was. Newt had the Flare. 

It had been a race against the clock.  _ Get the serum. _ And when Newt could no longer go on, Minho had run ahead. He wasn’t fast enough. The race ran out, the timer stopped. The next time he saw his friend, Newt was already gone. Dead on the platform with a knife in his chest. Minho’s own heart felt like it cracked into pieces.

He didn’t blame Thomas, knew that Thomas would never have let Newt die if he could have done anything to stop it. Minho had seen the Cranks, knew their rage and the way they attacked mindlessly. If Newt died it meant that there had been no way to stop it from happening, Thomas would have already tried everything to stall for time. It still didn’t make it any easier to accept. Or to believe.

Minho did however blame Thomas for leaving. How could he just  _ leave _ ? Leave Newt like this? Not even bothered to  _ close Newt’s eyes _ . Minho felt the tears trickle down his face as he reached out with a shaking hand and closed the eyes of his best friend. His dead friend. Never again would he see Newt smile that slightly amused, slightly annoyed smile he had whenever Minho did something stupid. Never again would Newt light up whenever Thomas was close. Never, never again.

He was unsure of how long he sat there, but eventually they all had to move. The city was crumbling all around them. Minho got up, slow and stiff. It felt like none of his bones would listen to what he wanted them to do anymore. Together with Frypan he managed to lift Newt’s body. None of them was going to leave him here.

But the night wasn’t over. No more than half an hour later Minho helped haul a wounded and weak Thomas into the Berg from a burning building. Then the building was gone. Teresa fell. And Thomas was on the brink of death, slowly bleeding out on the Berg’s floor. Minho hovered over him, reaching out to stroke the hair away from Thomas’ eyes, and while repeating over and over that  _ it was okay, everything was gonna be okay, _ he saw the light in those eyes fade and die until they only held emptiness. What was left of Minho’s heart shattered as he for the second time that cursed night closed the eyes of a friend, and the tears fell now, splattering against Thomas’ cheeks and eyelids.

_ Everything. They had taken everything from him. _ If it hadn’t been for Brenda and Gally holding him back, Minho would have thrown himself down into the burning inferno below to once again join his lost friends. 

Eventually he just blacked out. The unconsciousness was welcome. He didn’t wake until morning.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Vince said as they looked down at the two bodies, placed side by side on the dock. His voice was filled with sadness. “I really am. But we can’t bring them. We have no way to preserve two bodies on that rust bucket of a ship. We’ll have to bury them here, before we leave.”

Minho looked down at his friends,  _ at their bodies _ , thinking of the last time he’d seen both of them alive. Newt had known he wouldn’t survive, had as his last words to Minho thanked him. For everything. And Minho had told him to  _ hang on. _ And Thomas? What was the last thing Minho had said to Thomas? Was it when they jumped out of that window? No, it must have been later, when he’d asked how long Newt had been like that. And Thomas’ last words to him was to get the serum. And he’d failed. And because of him they were now both dead.

So Minho couldn’t leave them here. If there was anything at all Minho could do about it, he’d make sure they rested in the Safe Haven.

“Can we burn them?”

“What?” Vince sounded startled. Minho turned a steely gaze at him.

“Burn them. Cremate them, whatever. Bring their ashes to bury. At least then, in some way, they’ll make it there.” 

Vince just nodded, silently.

Minho was the one to light the fire, and he was the one who gathered up the ash and the cracked bones. It was horrible, and awful, and it still all felt  _ so unreal. _ His tears had already dried and left a numb feeling throughout his whole body. He knew he would cry and grieve again later, but right then he was wrung out of emotions.

Something glinted among the ashes, and when he picked it up he found that it was a small metal cylinder. It was mostly covered in soot except for where the lid had come off slightly, exposing a silvery surface that had caught the last dying light. Minho closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. He knew what this was. He had seen Newt wear it as a necklace just when they had escaped WCKD - and now that he thought about it, hadn’t Thomas worn it when they dragged him up on the Berg? 

Taking another deep breath, Minho opened his eyes and looked back to the little capsule. For a moment he debated against opening it, but then he popped the lid all the way off and tipped out the content into his palm. 

Ash. And flecks of what might once have been paper. Whatever had been in the capsule it would remain a secret that only the dead knew. Minho let the remains of it fall down onto the ground. He rubbed his thumb slightly on the surface of the necklace, uncovering more shiny metal. His gaze drifted to the box of ashes that he held securely under one arm, and without really thinking about it, he scooped up some of the ash into the cylinder and pressed the lid shut. Then he bent down and removed one of his shoelaces, tying it around the middle of the cylinder and hanging it around his neck.

He’d bring the box to the Safe Haven, and Newt’s and Thomas’ ashes would be buried there, but now at least part of them would always be with him as he lived on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a weird idea that came out of nowhere, and had to do with that sometimes people keep the urns with the dead's ashes instead of burying it. I dunno, I'm odd. I hope you guys like this one shot anyway!


End file.
